Stockholm
by ALCzysz17
Summary: AU. Being held against his will wasn't what Daryl had in mind when coming across the prison. And when that prison goes down he hadn't meant to kidnap Beth either but life likes to shit on him sometimes. Bethyl
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Walking Dead'.**

**Stockholm**

**Ch.1**

He didn't know how long he had been walking, could be hours, could be days. All he knew was he was alone. Had been since his brother up and died on him, the bastard didn't even have the decency to stay dead too. He unwillingly had to put him out completely after he got shot; he supposed that's what his brother got for antagonizing that group. The fact that he was so numbed to his brother's demise told him that it had been a while since it happened. Maybe a month ago? Probably longer.

It's hard to dictate days anymore, hell for all he knew it could have been years ago. He had been alone since his brother's passing, wandering in the woods of Georgia hunting whatever prey he could hit with his crossbow. Especially the dead ones.

Those fuckers were the best things to kill. Damn things didn't feel shit he came to find. Shooting them in the head though got the job done, they were mean fuckers though. Always chopping at him, trying their damnest to eat him alive. He was quicker though, an advantage of still living. He also guessed years of abuse helped him be light on his feet and quick to react, if he wasn't well…it won't pretty.

Taking in his surroundings he wondered if he was still in Georgia at all? He avoided housing developments, and high ways like the plague, the dead liked to hang round them areas. He was also quite wary of the living too. He was best on his own anyway, only had to care for himself and no one else. Making ties to anyone nowadays only meant heartache and pain later on. Going through it once with his brother was enough to last him a life time thank you very much.

He didn't much care for anyone before this shit happened anyway.

The sun beat down on his back causing him to sweat under the glaring heat. It had to be summer, again. So it was probably a year into it. He cursed underneath his breath. Figures the government failed, the economy had been shit anyhow so it wasn't hard to believe that once an epidemic like this popped up the American government would fall to pieces. On the small occasions he came across people, mostly just him hiding as they go on by he would eavesdrop on their conversations.

Mostly it was bullshit, but he did learn that there wasn't a cure to be known of. Again not surprising especially when the virus was inside their bodies already. He didn't like thinking that once he perished from this world he would come back as a drooling, fleshing eating dead person, a zombie.

He never did care for those horror flicks; his least favorite monster was actually zombies. Irony had a funny way of biting him in the ass huh.

He halted suddenly, his ears perking as he heard a crunch. It was a twig being stepped on, shit. How had he not heard a dead person approaching? The heat must be getting to his head, when was the last time he ate? Or even had a drink of water? Swiftly he whipped around crossbow at the ready when he spotted a kid.

He couldn't have been more than thirteen years old, just nearing puberty. He wore a sheriffs hat on his head with shaggy brown hair peeking from underneath. He also had a gun holstered to his belt, his hand hovering over it but with his crossbow already aimed at the kid's head he didn't move to grab his gun. Even this punk kid knew when he was out drawn.

"Where the fuck didja come from?" He asked gruffly staring down his nose and crossbow at the kid. He shrugged his shoulders and just stared at him, unmoving. A sense that something wasn't right came over him too little too late.

Out of nowhere he was bum-rushed to the ground dropping his crossbow forward at the kid's feet and hitting the ground hard. He tried flipping around but whoever hit him was now sitting on him pinning his arms to the ground. A rough southern voice barked out, "What's yer name?"

He ignored it trying to wrestle free. Had his brother been here he could have gotten loose. Where was that irritating, self-absorbed bastard?

Oh right, he's dead…

"I ain't gunna ask again?" Spitting dirt from his mouth he growled back, "Daryl Dixon mother-fucker!"

Then there was a sharp pain to the back of his neck, all darkness surrounded his vision. The last thing he saw was the kid looking at him worriedly, not at his buddies but him. Where the fuck did that kid get off?! He didn't need anyone worrying 'bout him, he was Daryl Goddamn Dixon! Dixon's don't need anyone worrying over them! Ever!

Then his thoughts ceased…

* * *

Carl came running to the gates first shouting for Glenn to open up. Beth had been walking around with Maggie while carrying Judith, getting much needed sun shine on the baby girl's skin. Life in a dark, dank prison wasn't exactly luxury. She looked to her sister to see the worry etched on her features. With a nod she ran ahead leaving her and the baby behind. They had only just gotten the gate fixed so it was still a bit hard to open the doors by ones-self. Beth walked a bit down coming to a stop by Carol.

"Hope everything went alright." She commented lightly bouncing the gurgling baby. The older woman smiled gently brushing her hand lightly against Judith's soft, dark brown hair.

"I'm sure everything is fine. Carl's probably excited about going hunting for the first time; maybe they got a buck or something?" She wiggled her eyebrows at her bringing a smile to her lips. Carol could always do that, make any worry she felt disappear without a trace much like her Mama use to do.

"That don't look like no buck I've ever seen." Beth said pointing out Rick and Tyreese heading through the gate with what looked like a man dangling from their combined arms. Carol frowned at the sight leaving her behind to meet up with the men. She traveled a little behind wanting to hear what was being said.

"Who's this?" Carol inquired lifting the man's lifeless head up by his chin to get a good look at his face. From her view point he looked quite dirty and older, probably close to Rick's age, Beth supposed. He had a longer beard too, most likely from days without shaving. It made him look older.

"Some guy walkin' near the prison, he seemed hostel so we took him out." Tyreese responded back giving an uneasy smile. He didn't look like he approved of the idea though.

"Did you even talk to him?" She asked next turning her penetrating stare to Rick.

"He had a crossbow pointin' at my boy, I ain't gunna ask questions when I could git 'im by surprise." Carl came up by his father the crossbow that was mentioned hanging off his back. He seemed to struggle holding it there though, one of his hands tightly clinging to the strap.

"His name's Daryl Dixon." Carl stated then looking at the adults around him. Beth stepped forward more looking at the man worriedly. Daryl Dixon huh? Sounded like old south to her, then again they all did come from the south.

"Well come on then, let's set him up in a cell for the time being." Beth watched as Carol led the men up to the cell block. She wondered if he was going to be in their cell block or one of the other ones they had cleared out days before.

"Dad only knocked him out, I think he'll be alright." She turned to Carl seeing him staring after the adults.

"You're worried?" She questioned shifting Judith from one side of her hip to the other. The younger boy shrugged lifting his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"He looked out of it, I think he's hurt." The mere mention of 'hurt' made her bit her lip. For all they know this man could be very dangerous, his weapon of choice being only one indicator. Another was how rough he looked; it was like he lived out in the woods for months. A regular mountain man.

She knew her Daddy would want to see this man soon especially if he was hurt like Carl thought. Though they were wary of outsiders, the attack from Woodbury giving them great reason too, they were still human. The least they could do was make sure he was helped even if he was their captive for now. Beth followed Carl inside. It had only been a few weeks earlier that the Governor from Woodbury attacked them, she hid while everyone else fought for their home. They were successful in the end but they lost some important people in the process.

Andrea, T-Dog, Dale and so many others. Now they were down to so little people. Tyreese and his sister, Sasha had relocated to the prison after disagreeing with the Governor's ideas and ways. If not for them they would never have known about the attack before it was too late, there might have been more causalities had they not shown up. Then there was Lori who passed away during childbirth. Beth cradled Judith to her chest lovingly.

She felt like such a poor replacement for her mother but no one had the time to watch the baby girl like she did. Sure everyone would pitch in, but Beth was her primary caretaker, her nanny for lack of a better word. She feared the day when Judith would be old enough to ask why she didn't have a mother. Then again with life as it is now if their group ever gets bigger like before then it probably wouldn't be out of the ordinary to be less one or both parents. As they say it takes a town to raise a child, and Judith was their child.

Beth tried to follow them down to cell block 'C' but her Daddy stopped her in her tracks.

"Bethy where do you think you are goin'?" She stopped abruptly frowning as she watched them disappear around the corner. She turned back around to her Daddy shrugging nonchalantly.

"No where really." He saw through her lackluster lie though, she never was a good liar.

"Now I don't want ya anywhere near that man, ya hear me Beth." She sighed softly nodding her head. She couldn't help being curious of the man. What was his story?

"Alright Daddy." Beth responded back walking away from him. He watched her carefully then hobbled down the hall heading towards the cell block where the others were.

* * *

"Ugh, fuck…" Daryl grumbled rubbing the back of his head. What the hell hit him? Slowly he opened his eyes taking in his surroundings. He expected to see trees and grass instead he saw grey and stone.

Eyes going wide he moved to jump to his feet but fell back down to his butt as the world spun around his head. He brought both of his hands up to his head while closing his eyes tightly. The sudden feeling of being sick came over him but he held his breath hoping nothing would come up, that is if anything came up at all. Daryl couldn't remember the last time he had a meal, he hoped it wasn't too long. Slowly opening his eyes he took in his surroundings better to see that he was in some type of cell.

To his left was a bunk bed set up but that was about it. Then the door in front of him of course. Moving slowly he got back to his feet though unsteady like his legs were made of jelly and reached out for the cell door. He shook it to find the door tightly sealed shut. He was locked in.

"Wha the fuck?!" Daryl shook it harder making a rattling noise as he did. What the hell was this!? He shook the door a few more times before letting go. He backed away from it to lean against the opposite wall. He couldn't really remember much of anything, how the hell did he get here?

Then he heard a loud door being forced open along with footsteps. Daryl crossed his arms over his chest waiting to see his captives, a few seconds later he took in a tall man 'round his age with brown hair brushed back from his face and a slowly graying beard that was well taken care of over his own, he hadn't seen a razor in a long while. He regarded the man silently gauging how this would go down. He noticed that the man was armed too and he hadn't a clue where his crossbow went. His fingers dug into his arms as he waited for the man to speak.

"I'm Rick Grimes," he started crossing his own arms over his chest, "and you said yer name was Daryl Dixon right?" Daryl frowned not remembering giving his name but then he had quite the knot on his noggin so that could be the cause for his lack of memory. This sick fuck probably did it too.

"Yah, that's right. Why the hell am I in this cell?" Rick looked him up and down briefly as though thinking if he should answer his question. He didn't.

"Why were ya lurkin' 'round the woods?" Daryl scoffed turning away from him to look around the cell. Running a hand through his hair he felt the knot near the base of his head, he resisted the urge to flinch as it throbbed from his touch.

"I was huntin', ain't known thair were other people 'round." He turned his narrowed blue eyes on Rick waiting for him to continue his stupid interrogation of him.

"Ya weren't doin' much huntin' from the looks of it, ya was wonderin' 'round aimlessly." Daryl glared at him, had he really been that out of it? Damn, clearly this guy had been watching him for quite a bit if he had seen how out of it he had been.

"Why the hell am I 'ere?" Daryl asked again fixing a stare that told Rick he had better answer him this time; he was low on patience right now.

"We had trouble with outsiders before, so fer our safety yer gunna be stayin' in that cell till we discuss what else ta do with ya." Rage like nothing he had felt before overcame him. He was stuck here till they saw fit that he could leave!? Where the fuck did they get off!?

Quick as lightning Daryl slammed against the door making Rick jump across the floor to hit the staircase leading up to the catwalk. "Ya listen 'ere fucker ya best be lettin' me go! I ain't done nuthin' wrong!" He shook the door aggressively trying to somehow rip the cell door off.

"I'll be back later once ya calm down." Daryl yelled out again. He watched as Rick ignored his outbursts and left him in the cell alone. He heard mumbling further outside out of his sight letting him know he wasn't exactly alone that someone was keeping watch while he sat in this dark cell.

How the hell did this happen to him anyway? This was why he fucking avoided other people; they were more dangerous than the damn dead. Daryl kicked the door hard with the bottom of his boot then walked over to collapse on the bed. What was he going to do now? He was stuck here till further notice and he was pretty sure he would be here for awhile too.

Lucky fucking him…

* * *

Beth edged near the library door along with Carl as they listened in on the adults talking. Technically Beth was more considered an adult than Carl but they were both refused admission in since the council was having a meeting and so Carl had the genius idea for them to eavesdrop on them. It was the least they could do; this decision affected both of them as well. Judith slept soundlessly in her arms as she and Carl pressed their heads against the door to listen in.

Good thing the door was rather thin.

"We should just get rid of him! He could be just as dangerous as the Governor was!" Beth made out Glenn's voice; she frowned softly as she listened. He had a point but they couldn't just kill him that was so…inhumane of them. She couldn't live with herself if they did that.

"He has a temper I'll give 'im that but he's also dehydrated lookin' and out of it. He's clearly not in the right mind at the moment." Rick answered back confirming Carl's observation from earlier.

"Rick, he's obviously dangerous we should just finish him off. You have Judith and Carl to think of." Glenn responded back.

"We can't just decide to kill him without any reason Glenn." Carol's voice erupted softly.

"I don't know, even if he's locked up I don't feel all that safe." Beth heard her sister's voice.

"We'll have someone guard cell block C fer the time bein'." Rick said to her sister.

"We shouldn't be wasting energy keeping watch on this guy." Glenn seemed pretty adamant on offing this Daryl Dixon; it made Beth sad to hear how different the shy Asian man had become. She wished he would go back to the way he use to be, seeing him so harden scared her.

"We also should not kill him for fear of something he has yet to have done, we cannot condemn this man for doin' nothing but walking in the woods. I say we keep him locked up and see how well it goes over. Not everyone is like the Governor." Beth smiled hearing her Daddy's words of wisdom. He was right, it wasn't right to kill this man just because they were afraid of what he might do, for all they know he could just do nothing at all.

"Hershel…" Glenn sounded defeated and deflated. She was sure Maggie was comforting him in some way though.

"Let's call a vote, either he stays locked up or we figure out where to drop him off. I ain't gunna kill him fer no reason." Rick's voice brought silence to the room so Beth and Carl waited for the final result. After a minute she heard his voice again. "Alright then it's settled. Daryl Dixon will stay in the cell for the time bein'."

Quickly Carl and Beth got away from the door walking briskly around the corner to hide from everyone as they exited the library. Glenn looked annoyed while Maggie followed after him in silence. Michonne silent as ever left without a word as Sasha joined her probably going to tell her brother the vote. Rick was the last to leave with Hershel and Carol beside him, he looked tired and Beth couldn't blame him. Even with the council it was still a heavy burden on the man, he was still considered the leader of their group.

It was just an unspoken acknowledgement.

"Are you sure we should keep him locked up like that?" Carol asked looking at Rick worriedly.

"He's clearly in need of medical help plus I was the one who knocked him out. We don't know if he is dangerous or not but at least here he'll get food, water and help." Rick rubbed a hand over his face before adding, "Though I don't think he'll want our help either way."

"Let's give him some food and water for today then tomorrow I'll go in with Maggie to check him over." Hershel patted Rick on the back before hobbling away on his crutches. The other two followed behind leaving Beth and Carl alone.

"So I guess he's staying." Carl said first turning to look at Beth. She nodded.

"Yeah, guess so." She wasn't sure how to feel about it.

Sure she was glad they weren't going to kill him but then it was one more mouth to feed and there was a great sense of uncertainty where he was concerned. From the looks of Daryl Dixon he seemed like a pretty rough man, tough as nails and probably a potty mouth to go with it too. Beth didn't want to pass judgment on him without knowing him though so she kept her observations to herself. Still this man seemed quite intriguing all the same.

Hopefully he won't cause too much trouble within the group…

* * *

**A/N: S**o this story is mostly from **amberpower **who wanted to see a few things written out and had asked me if I could make it happen. I was pretty interested in what she was looking to read for this pairing and decided that it wouldn't be such a bad thing to write either. This won't be a long story, mostly long chapters though this will probably be the shortest chapter since it is the beginning. I always wanted to play with the old Daryl since he was a bit more rebel and pretty much an asshole for the most part. Hopefully I got his character down right.

This will be updated sporadically since I do have other stories to attend too. Let me know whatcha think! Check ya later…

_**ALCzysz17**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Walking Dead'.**

**Stockholm**

**Ch.2**

Daryl felt like a headache was starting the form as he stared angrily up at the top bunk above him. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he talked to that Rick guy but damn he was bored as shit and hungry. A hunger pain panged inside his stomach reminding him once more that he needed something to feed the beast inside. His glare somehow hardens more as he continued to have a staring contest with the top bunk. His temper had more than cooled off by now but he was still seriously pissed about the situation either way.

What had he done to deserve this type of treatment?

Sure Daryl hadn't been the greatest guy around but he wasn't rotten to the core, not like his pathetic old man or even his brother had been. He tried being the good guy, tried being anything but a white trash redneck from the backwoods but he guessed ya can't change what ya are born to be. There was a time though that he had tried for something more, then he suspended from school in tenth grade and said, 'fuck it!' Ended up working for his old man at the car repair shop ever since.

Sighing Daryl turned over on his side letting his eyes finally rest from their glaring to stare blankly at the wall opposite the bunk bed. How the hell did he get himself into these situations anyway? Usually it was Merle's fault more times than not, somehow though it was his fault. Couldn't blame a dead man no more.

His eyes closed just as he heard voices further out from his cell, must be changing shifts he thought. It got quiet again till he heard a clicking noise of the cell door opening, his eyes abruptly opened and he went to get up but the door was shut just as fast as it was opened being locked back into place. Frowning Daryl looked over to see a woman standing on the other side, she had short graying hair, thin as a rail and staring over at him thoughtfully.

Daryl scowled at the look hoping it sent fear into her heart. It didn't.

"I brought you dinner." She stated in a light voice watching him like he as a wild animal, hell he mind as well be damn sure felt like it. Daryl raised an eyebrow then drew his eyes down to the floor to take in the food steaming in a bowl. He eyed it over suspiciously. "It's good, we have no need to poison you." He snorted at that.

"Yer keepin' me locked up, what makes ya thank I would trust yer food?" He then bent down picking up the bowl as if looking it over and thinking about eating it till he turned it around and flung it against the wall letting it splatter and drip down. The woman flinched stepping back from the cell door. "That's what I thank of yer damn food." He commented next lying back down on the bed with his arms placed behind his head.

"That was a waste of good food." She said disappointedly, her eyes stared hard at the food sliding down the wall then brought those same eyes upon him. Daryl willed his face to be emotionless acting like he didn't have a care in the world. "Aren't you hungry?" She asked next.

"Nope, not one bit." Daryl stated back then his stomach annoyingly grumbled in hunger pains telling her he was lying. Traitor, he thought placing a hand on his stomach in a vain hope that it would help settle the uncomfortable gnawing.

"I can bring you more food." He rolled his eyes turning his glare towards her.

"I don't need yer damn food, now fuck off bitch." Daryl watched as she flinched again from his harsh words causing just a little bit of regret to well inside his chest, it wasn't like she locked him up in here. Still she was a part of the group that did and so was guilty by association. He pushed away any regret letting his anger overpower that feeling altogether.

She stayed put though ignoring his words and sizing him up, suddenly it was like she completely transformed into another person. She directed her own hard glare towards him. "I'll be back in the morning with breakfast; ya better eat it because if it's not eaten ya won't get lunch or dinner." Then as abrupt and unexpected as her visit was she turned and disappeared from his sight just the same.

Mentally he cursed her over and over again and ignored his grumbling pleading stomach as he laid there. What the fuck did she know anyway!? Dumb bitch. Fuck her and fuck anyone else he had the unpleasantry of meeting here at this hell-hole!

They could all rot in hell for all he cared.

"Ya know ya could be nicer ta Carol." Daryl sat up again to see Rick standing there staring him down, he didn't look pissed or angry just mildly frustrated and disappointed. Well that definitely made two of them!

"Why the hell should I be nice ta any of ya!? Fuckin' locked me up like a criminal…" Daryl crossed his arms over his chest; his fingers were itching for his crossbow to hold. It felt like a security blanket for him lately and without it he felt empty, truly and utterly alone actually. Rick ran a hand over his face looking mighty tired.

"We voted." He finally said catching Daryl's attention. Voted for what?

"So." He mumbled out.

"It was about yer fate 'ere." Now that seriously caught his attention. Daryl moved to stand feeling like he needed to be up and about for Rick's next few words.

"My fate? What, ya ain't gunna kill me or anythang right?" He tried to act indifferent but really he was just a bit fearful on the inside. Without his crossbow or any weapon on him he couldn't do much but fight with his fists and from the looks of it Rick had a big group. If he was condemned to death then there was nothing he could do. Daryl puffed out his chest hoping that made him not seem nervous as he waited for Rick to continue.

"We're gunna keep ya 'round 'ere fer now, alive as long as ya eat." Daryl nodded gruffly while on the inside he let out a breath of air, another bullet dodged. "T'morrow our groups doctor will come in ta look ya over so be nice ta him, there will be someone armed and trained on ya too."

Daryl rolled his eyes; he hadn't expected anything less than that. "Don't waste yer time, I'm fine." Rick shook his head eying him up and down.

"I highly doubt that, yer gonna ta get checked over Daryl whether ya want to or not." The authority in his voice pissed the redneck off more. His hands tighten into fists and it took everything in him to resist slamming against the cell door again scaring the man away once more.

"Tch, whatever. Leave me the fuck alone now." Daryl waved him off before turning back to the bed to lay down again this time intending to get much needed sleep; quite suddenly he was beyond tired and even more so tired of people bugging the shit out of him.

"Daryl, we're just tryin' ta help ya." He snorted loudly but kept his mouth shut, no more conversations. A few seconds went by before he heard Rick's retreating steps.

Daryl kept his back towards the cell door squeezing his eyes shut tightly and trying to somehow fall asleep. This whole situation was fucked up, trying to help him please! Locking him in a cell wasn't helping him or endearing him towards the group, if anything it pissed him off more that Rick was trying to act like he was a nice guy. Nice guys don't do the shit he was doing, Daryl would know…he tried being the nice guy once…

Wasn't fucking worth it…

* * *

**A/N: I **know I said I would make the chapters longer since the story is shorter, well I decided to change it up by doing shorter chapters and lengthen the story more that way I can hash out chapters faster than I was doing and more development will come out of it and as I was running it through my head it seemed a tad rushed to me. Anywho so Daryl got to meet Carol and talk a little to Rick and we learned a bit about Daryl too. Hope I kept him in character from his season 1 and 2 self!

Next chapter will be out hopefully next week! Keep a look out!

Check ya later…

_**ALCzysz17**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Walking Dead'.**

**Stockholm**

**Ch.3**

Hearing the clank of metal woke him from his deep slumber. Daryl groaned under his breath twisting his neck to create a loud pop that echoed around the small cell. He may have slept deeply but there was a rather painful kink in his neck now from the uncomfortable bed. He reached up to rub his neck and the tender muscles there before turning around to see food once more on the floor by the door along with a glass but this time no 'Carol' in sight. Sitting up created yet another pop, damn maybe he should have slept on the damn floor.

Probably wouldn't be in nearly this much pain.

Standing up proved to be a bit of a problem for Daryl though, he braced himself against the wall to help stretch his back out. Damn mattress was a piece of shit! He cursed the mattress in his mind as he stretched his arms over his head then stretched his legs. Once he was sure he wouldn't collapse Daryl turned his attention to the bowl of food on the floor.

Grabbing it off the ground he took a whiff but there was barely a scent to the food. It looked bland and mushy though and after staring at it for five minutes Daryl came to the conclusion that it was oatmeal. He thought about tossing it against the wall like the last meal (which now that he was taking notice that bowl was gone) but his stomach protested any type of destruction for the food unless it was done by his stomach.

Daryl sank down to the terrible mattress and contemplated if the food was poisoned or not. Carol seemed rather adamant that they wouldn't do that and even Rick was trying to be Mr. Nice Guy, they had at least one kid here possibly more so killing someone via poisoned food would be a tad excessive. Then again thinking of his piece of shit father he couldn't be too careful. So instead of tossing the food he set it down opting to wait it out first.

He hadn't survived this long being stupid. He could go another day or more without food, water though was a different thing altogether. Hell he had to take a piss a mile long as well.

Looking around the small cell he could see that this wasn't like bigger state penitentiaries where the toilets were built in the cell. He would have to wait till someone came by to let him take a piss.

"Fuck this place." Daryl grumbled.

During the time he waited for someone to come by he got the second mattress off the top bunk to double the bottom, hopefully that solved his back and neck issues. If he was gunna be here for a while then he mind as well make it as comfortable as he could. Afterwards he slid down the wall to lean back against it with his legs bowlegged and arms sitting on top of his knees. Since there wasn't much he could do Daryl thought about the past, reminiscing sort of, though most of his memories weren't exactly looked upon fondly.

He wondered how his life had brought him to this point. Was the hard living and horrible upbringing all meant for him to live in this new world where the dead didn't stay dead and attacked the living? Daryl never believed in fate or anything supernatural like that but if anything else his horrible childhood did help him survive this horrible adulthood.

What would he be doing right now if he wasn't trapped in this cell?

Probably chasing after Merle to keep the bastard from getting into trouble, like always. Daryl figured a long time ago that he just wasn't allowed to have his own life, wasn't allowed to be his own person either. Always keeping his eyes on Merle and doing what he wanted to do, going where he wanted to go, and sleeping around with who he approved of. Because of how controlling his brother actually was of his person, Daryl didn't interact with other people. He kept to himself and his brother; he barely even slept around like his brother had. Hell, he could count on one hand how many women he had fucked over the course of his life.

Though, of course, Daryl would brag and say otherwise to anyone he happened to be drinking with (his brother, included).

Fuck, he missed that fucking asshole. Now that his brother was gone for good Daryl had no idea what to do with himself. Maybe if he had thought it through better than his ass wouldn't be sitting on this dirty, dank floor in this small cell locked away because people thought he looked dangerous.

Shit, he was fucking dangerous and they best not forget it neither!

Daryl didn't know how much time passed before someone finally showed up, maybe an hour or two, most likely thirty minutes. He heard the creaking of a door opening then Rick appeared in his sight with another woman, this one younger than Carol had been. She had short brown hair with green eyes that stared down at him in narrowed slits. Obviously she didn't trust him. Then finally another person came up, it was an older man with white hair and a white beard. His eyes though stared at him kindly without any judgment within them. He smiled at Daryl and honestly Daryl just stared back at them.

"Daryl, ya didn't eat yer breakfast." Rick scolded him lightly, looking disappointed just like last night. Daryl didn't care though, let him be disappointed won't no skin off his nose.

"Well at least he didn't throw it against the wall." The woman commented with a wrinkled nose, he hadn't even noticed it smelled 'til she mentioned it. He ignored it though, still didn't care nor did it bother him.

"I'm Hershel Greene, Mr. Dixon and this is my daughter, Maggie. We're here to check ya over." The older man, Hershel stated kindly letting Rick unlock the cell door to let him in. It was then that Daryl noticed Hershel using crutches to get in, his eyes zeroed in on one pant leg rolled up revealing that the old man was missing half of his calf to his foot. Vaguely he wondered what had happened.

"Be good, Daryl. Hershel, here is gunna check ya over fer injuries." This time Daryl decided to speak.

"I ain't injured; I don't need no checkin' over. I ain't need yer damn pity, so fuck off, all of ya!" Maggie flinched at the venom in his voice but Hershel didn't, he just ignored Daryl's words and proceeded into the cell with a bag in one hand.

"Maggie, if ya will." Hershel waved her over letting her take his crutches to place against the wall as he sat down on the double mattress bed. His aging eyes looked around the cell for a brief moment then stared down at Daryl. "This would go much faster Mr. Dixon if ya come sit beside me." He patted the spot next to him with a smile.

Daryl looked between him and Maggie then Rick who stayed outside of the cell with the door hanging open but his hand resting lightly on his gun by his hip. He didn't have many options, he had no way of getting out, at least not without getting shot and though she looked worried, Daryl had a feeling Maggie was a force to be reckon with. So without much else he could do, Daryl got up using the wall to support his weight then walked over to sit beside Hershel on the bed though there was a good chuck of space between them.

"Now I'm gonna check yer heart rate first." The old man dug through his bag pulling out a weird looking contraption that Daryl hadn't seen since he had gotten the flu when he was six years old. A stethoscope is what they were called it, if Daryl remembered correctly. He kept his eyes on Hershel, watching his every move as he placed the ear pieces in his ears then took the round piece at the end up to his chest. "Breathe in deep and hold yer breath please."

Daryl felt inclined to do the exact opposite but the way Hershel acted and responded to him made the redneck feel obligated to follow his orders. Still eyeing him Daryl took a deep breath and held it for a moment then released it slowly through his mouth. The old man asked him to do the breathing once more then he was pulling the round piece away and putting the stethoscope into his bag.

"Yer heart rate seems fine, a little on the fast side though." Hershel smiled lightly at Daryl then continued on, "Now Mr. Dixon, if ya would please remove your shirt so I can check ya over." Instantly Daryl was on his feet pulling away from Hershel and keeping his distance from Maggie too.

"Fuck no! I consider this all done wit'! No more, git the fuck out!" Daryl directed a glare to Rick when he heard him sigh deeply in exasperation.

"We're tryin' to help you." Maggie stated tightly, her arms coming across her chest as she glared at him. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling showing her how much he believed her statement.

"I ain't need yer damn help, I'm fine!" Maggie opened her mouth to argue on but Hershel spoke up instead. "Mr. Dixon, yer suffering from dehydration, possibly starvation and yer leanin' towards the right to take the weight off yer left side tellin' me that you have an injury. At least let me check it over."

Daryl frowned deeply, how had he not known he was subconsciously leaning off his injured side? Fuck. He stared hard into the older man's eyes trying to locate some type of deception that he really wasn't as nice and kind as he portrayed but Daryl couldn't find anything but what was there. Hershel Greene was exactly who and how he appeared, a nice old man who only wanted to help those in need. He didn't particularly like being considered 'in need' but Daryl's side was hurting something awful…

"I ain't takin' my shirt off." Daryl finally said heatedly waiting to hear any protests, when none came he sighed deeply then lifted the edge of his button up tank and vest revealing tanned and scarred skin including the injury on his left side. Maggie took a sharp intake of breath upon seeing the swollen and red skin there; he glanced down at the wound hiding the wince at seeing how bad it had gotten.

"We're you shot Mr. Dixon?" Hershel finally asked waving him to step closer. Daryl shook his head hissing when a probing finger touched the inflamed skin.

"Nah fell down a ravine probably a week back and my bolt pierced my side. Had ta pull it out." He gritted his teeth as Hershel inspected the wound poking at the small puckering hole where the bolt had once been lodged in.

"It looks infected to me, you'll have to take some antibiotics and eat the food we provide you," Hershel gave him an appointed look, "but ya should recover just fine. Just let me clean the wound up and then we'll leave ya be."

Daryl spent the next ten minutes holding back groans and grunts as Hershel and Maggie cleaned out the wound from both the front of his abdomen and the back, he looked over to Rick to see him frowning and grimacing at the sight. The wound had also bled a little along with foul smelling, yellow pus that left everyone in the cell gagging at the sight and smell. By the end of the whole ordeal Daryl just wanted to sleep away the ache inside. Hershel gave him some pills to swallow as Maggie handed him the forgotten glass by his cold, uneaten food.

He stared down hard at the three pills in his hand, thought about dropping them to the floor and crushing them with his feet, hell even thought about tossing them at Rick just to spite them all but when he looked back at Hershel with this earnest, calm look on his face. It was like he knew Daryl was going to pitch a fit and not take them, he was expecting it. Honestly he wanted to do just as he thought but the old man had done nothing but to help him and to throw it back in his face just didn't sit right with him, asshole or not Daryl wasn't ungrateful.

So as much as he didn't want to, he swallowed the pills chasing them with the glass that was full of fresh water, though it was lukewarm at this point. He ended up gulping it down in one go, not realizing just how thirsty he really was.

"Is there anything we can do for you, Mr. Dixon?" Hershel asked once he was done, rising to his one foot just as Maggie handed him his crutches. Daryl watched the exchange silently leaning back against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest.

"More water." He finally said to which Rick nodded mumbling something about grabbing a bottle or two for him. Just as the trio were leaving though another thought came to him. "Oh and I gotta take a piss like a damn race horse."…

* * *

Beth bounced Judith on her lap as she waited for her sister and Daddy to show back up from looking in on the mountain man, Daryl Dixon. She wondered if they would get a verbal lashing like Carol had told them when she came back last night from giving him dinner. She was a bit disappointed that he flung the food against the wall; she worked hard on preparing it for him too. He seemed rather ungrateful in her opinion but then she couldn't exactly blame him since they did lock him up against his will. Carol also mentioned he wasn't very happy about his situation. Beth offered to bring his food instead but the older woman just shook her head, stating that she wasn't going to be scared away by words.

Hearing the strength in Carol's voice brought a smile to her lips. She had really come a long way from the soft-spoken, easily spooked woman Beth had met a year and a half back on the farm. She admired Carol for the strength she found in herself, especially after finding little Sophia bit and as a walker inside their barn. Beth shuddered at the thought…

"How did everything go?" Beth jumped looking up from Judith's soft head to see Maggie and Rick coming in with her Daddy hobbling in after them. Sasha was the one to ask, she was sitting opposite herself on the bench reading a very old magazine.

"He'll live, has a bad infection on his left side from being pierced by an arrow but otherwise should recover." Hershel responded back coming over to sit beside Beth. He smiled lightly at her and patted Judith on the head.

"Did he give you any trouble?" Carol popped up from the cell block into the common area looking between all three expectantly. Beth was curious herself, they seemed to get done much faster than she had anticipated. She honestly thought Daryl had told them to 'F' off as well.

"He was crude and didn't want any help but Hershel here, he jus' didn't take 'no' fer an answer." Rick said this time, looking at her Daddy with an approving smile. The blonde snuggled up against her father's arm, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Mr. Dixon is a hard man, but not unreasonable. He don't trust us and we haven't given him reason to either, hopefully now he'll be less of a threat and more inclined to settle down. Maybe even become a part of the group." Rick nodded his agreement to Hershel's words. Looking at her sister though Beth could see Maggie wasn't as agreeing but she didn't seem as nervous as she had been upon leaving earlier that day with their father.

Beth had wanted to go with instead, she had helped her father more with medical things back home than Maggie had but because she was young they didn't want her near him. Plus there was Judith who needed to be looked after and not to be obnoxious or anything but the baby did prefer her over a few others. Hearing about Daryl's injury though gave her sympathy pains as her left side ached a little. She wondered how that happened.

The rest of the day for Beth consisted of looking after Judith (nothing out of the ordinary there) and cooking dinner for everybody when it was nearing dark out. Sometimes Beth felt put off by the fact that she wasn't trusted to help out with patrols and runs, but when she thought about everything that consisted of doing those things, particularly runs she guessed it was for the best. She was a decent shot, not the best or even as good as Carl but decent. She use to help on the fence but killing walkers still didn't sit right with her; it bugged her to see their faces, to be reminded that once upon a time they were human.

Could still be human…

Though her thoughts of them just being sick so long ago on the farm had ceased, Beth still felt like there might be a chance of saving them. There had to be some type of cure in the works, something that could reverse the changes, give these poor forsaken souls their lives back. It was wishful thinking at best and it was hope that kept the dream alive in her but she would never tell a soul here about it. Her Daddy might understand best of what she was talking about and feeling but the rest like her sister or even Rick would probably question her sanity. Hell, sometimes she questioned her sanity.

Still she hoped and prayed that it was true, cause what was the point if ya didn't wish for the best out of a bad situation?

Just as she and Carol were finishing up making dinner for everyone was when Judith started getting fussy. Beth bounced her, sung to her, and cuddled her but nothing seemed to settle her down. She refused both her bottle and her pacifier. The blonde was starting to grow frustrated; it was only sometimes that Judith would become a hand full for her. Today seemed to be that day.

"Maybe she needs a nap?" Beth asked Carol, looking to the older woman for guidance. She quickly checked the soup they were cooking then walked over to take Judith from her arms. The baby just kept whimpering and struggling in her arms as well, but Carol with her infinite patience and wisdom rocked the baby girl around.

"Sometimes babies are just fussy for no reason at all. It's like a cry for attention." Carol stated, winking over at Beth as she walked around with Judith. She walked back over to the food, stirring it some more then taste testing it before declaring it done. As Beth poured the soup into bowls and placing them on the table she turned the Carl fiddling around with Daryl Dixon's crossbow. She eyed the dangerous looking weapon over before calling out to the boy.

"Carl, can you get everyone for dinner?" He nodded his head, eyeing over the food longingly before going out the door. Just as she poured the last bit into the final bowl, Daryl's bowl, Beth glanced back over to see Carol handling Judith. Her heart picked up a bit as she thought about what she would be offering. "Would ya like me to deliver Mr. Dixon his food, Carol?"

The older woman stopped dancing around to look over at her thoughtfully. She looked extremely iffy but not altogether saying out right 'no' to her either. Beth waited though just smiling lightly and acting nonchalant, like she didn't really care either way. Really though she wanted to meet the man face to face and she didn't really know why though. She figured it was because he had been out in the world, seeing things that she, herself, hadn't seen or done. Worldly is the word. Plus if he was possibly going to be a part of the group at some point it wouldn't be such a bad thing to visit and get to know him right?

"I guess…" Carol mumbled out, glancing back down to Judith for a second before nodding her head. "Don't be too long and don't let anything he says upset you."

Beth smiled with a nod, her heart beating a mile a minute inside her chest. Grabbing a spoon she took off out of the common room making sure to avoid her sister or father, in case they object (which, of course, they would). The closer she got to the other cell block the more nervous she felt. Her stomach lurched as she walked through the darken corridors of the tombs, she hated going through here. Sometimes she expected a walker to pop out of every corner.

Once she rounded a corner she could see the door leading to that common room and then to Daryl Dixon's cell block, the only thing standing in her way…

Glenn…

* * *

**A/N: S**o this chapter came out longer than the last, and really the chapter sizes will vary depending on what I have in mind. Hopefully Daryl was being Daryl from season 1 and 2, using his tough exterior to hide the fact that he isn't a complete asshole. Anywho just to let ya guys know, this story is being written for someone on the site (already told ya guys this I know) and one of the things she wanted was for Beth to still believe that walkers can be cured, that their just sick.

Now, of course, this has been done in season 2. By the end they all knew walkers weren't just sick people, they are actually dead. So for Beth in this story to believe that still seemed extremely unrealistic, so I took some creative license here and instead made her believe there is hope that they can be cured. She knows their dangerous but can't bring herself to kill any since she does hope that they will be a cure that can change them back to what they use to be.

That to me sounds much more realistic, hope it does to y'all too. Also my updates may be a bit slower because I know have a full fledge, very lovely beta who will be checking over my grammar and such before I post everything. Sometimes two heads are better than one, especially in my case, lol.

So I would like to give a shout out and dedicate this chapter to **KittyStrinx**! Thank you so much for helping me out! You totally and utterly rock!

**P.S- This chapter has not been beta read because I have yet to get the chapter back and I just can't wait any longer to post this. **

Check ya later…

_**ALCzysz17**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Walking Dead'.**

**Stockholm**

**Ch.4**

Beth stopped just short of the door leading into the common room, keeping a corner between her and Glenn who was standing there rather boredly with a rifle in hand. She remembered his reaction to keeping Daryl around and alive, she didn't blame him for his animosity towards the mountain man. She was just a tad wary of him too, but that wasn't going to stop her from trying to get to know him. Appearances weren't everything even in this day and age, can't be judging a book by its cover, it's only a third of who the person really is. Glenn really must of drawn the short straw this time to be standing watch, unfortunately standing in her way.

She knew without a doubt that he wouldn't let her go through on her own, or at all for that matter. He easily fitted the mold of older brother for her that her real brother, Shawn had once filled. If her Daddy and Maggie wouldn't let her go do this then Glenn would surely agree with them. Beth nibbled on her bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to get in there without causing too much of a scene. Everyone just keeps treating her like she's nothing but a child.

'I'm 'bout to be eighteen years old now, it's time they all realize I'm no child anymore!' Beth thought moodily, she sounded so confident in her mind but on the outside she was shaking like a leaf. Her nerves were getting the better of her.

Slowly she sucked in air through her mouth tightly, willing her nerves to settle down before she confronted Glenn. She needed to be stern and strong, not to mention appear bigger than she is. She could do this, everyone mistakes her for being weak and though that may be true-when it came to walkers-yet that was not true when it came to people. Nodding her head once, she shook her shoulders a little to loosen them up then proceeded around the corner to see Glenn.

He was picking at dirt or something underneath his finger nail when her approaching footsteps alerted him that he had company. He looked up with a slight smile, obviously expecting Carol since that smile turned into an instant frown when he saw it was Beth and not the older woman. She tried to not let that deter her from continuing on her mission.

"Beth? What are you doing here? Where's Carol?" Glenn said in rapid fire, giving her a once more. She smiled lightly, hoping it didn't look as strained as it felt.

"Judith was givin' me a hard time, so we switched." Simple as that.

Unfortunately, nothing is never as simple as it seems. Glenn frowned as he took in the bowl of food in her hands then shook his head.

"I can't let you go beyond this point, Beth." She wanted to frown but held the facial expression at bay. She had some authority here, she best use it.

"Carol told me I could, what is he gonna do Glenn? Spit at me through the metal bars?" Glenn snorted at her little joke, loosening up a little.

"He isn't exactly nice, Beth. You heard the things he said to Carol." Beth merely shrugged her shoulders.

"Sticks and stones, Glenn. The most he'll do is glare at me and probably push my food away or worse, throw it against the wall again. I'm not a little baby." Beth stated sternly at the end, giving him the stink eye. He rolled his eyes with a sigh.

"Is your Dad okay with this?" Oh, he was going for the underhanded move. Beth shrugged again, walking closer to him with all intentions of entering the cell block whether he allowed her to or not.

"I just told ya I ain't a little baby anymore." She then lightly patted his shoulder indicating that he needed to step aside; he wouldn't budge though still watching her carefully as though she was going to pull a weapon out on him or something. Beth pushed away the bit of hurt from seeing that expression on his face, to know that what happened back at Woodbury still stayed so close to his heart. Beth then softly pleaded, "Please Glenn."

He watched her for a moment before sighing deeply. He pushed his hair back from his forehead then unlocked the door to let her go into the common area. Beth walked through first then watched as he unlocked the second door to the cell block stepping back but not going further. She stopped and gave him a look.

"Glenn…"

"Yeah, yeah you're not a baby anymore. I know. Doesn't mean Maggie won't kill me later though." Glenn gave her a cheeky smile, just a bit of his old self showing in the gleam in his eyes. He then brushed the ridge of his nose before handing her the key. "Holler if anything goes wrong." She nodded, waiting to let him go back to his post.

It was silent aside from Glenn mumbling to himself that Maggie was going to rip him a new one later. Beth bit her tongue to keep from giggling; sadly he was telling the truth…

She walked over to the door slowly opening it to allow herself to slip in with the bowl in one hand and the key in the other. It was darker in this cell block than her own, looking up to the ceiling she could see at least two lights were broken. They were already dim enough altogether, it was even worse when one or two of the lights were broken. There were shadows upon shadows in every corner; a shiver ran down her back as she peeked into each cell to see which one he was in.

Right by the stairs she found him.

Daryl Dixon was lying on his back staring up at the ceiling like he was counting the cracks up there. He very well could be, had there been enough lighting for him to see with that is. Beth approached the cell door placing the key in the lock and twisting it open. He jumped at the sound of the door opening but made no move to bum-rush her like she had thought he would do at first chance, instead he turned his eyes upon her, watching her curiously.

Beth gulped at the burn of his eyes on her skin. They were intense and dark; it took everything in her to look away so she could place the bowl down on the ground by an empty cup and an empty water bottle. Glancing back up at him she quickly snatched both up to get cleaned and to get the bottle refilled. Once the door clanked shut the blonde just stood there staring in at him. She wasn't entirely disappointed that he didn't verbally abuse her like Carol, but she was a little miffed that he hadn't said a word to her. Daryl glanced between the bowl of food than back up at her.

"Its vegetable soup, we didn't have any meat to add with it." Beth rubbed her arm, waiting for him to respond to her words. He sat up as the smell of the soup wafted towards him, but still kept his mouth shut. Her heart started to pound in her chest as she stood there, she sort of felt stupid to still be standing there but her iron, stubborn will kept her in place. "It's really good, I helped make it…"

'That sounded like a little kid!' Beth berated herself, hoping to keep the embarrassment off of her face. Daryl arched a brow at her, wondering why she was still standing there. It was like she waiting for him to converse with her.

Pfft, fat chance that would be happening…

Reluctantly he got up to grab the bowl of soup, maybe if he made a show of eating it then little miss Blondie here would shove off and leave him be. He bent down to grab the bowl, glanced back at the pretty, little blonde girl standing there then pushed the spoon aside to slurp up the soup from the edge of the bowl. Fuck utensils, ain't need them.

Beth felt her face scrunch up in slight disgust as she watched him gulp down the entire bowl in under a minute, veggies and broth without so much as choking. An interesting feat, but a disgusting one nonetheless. "I brought ya a spoon for a reason." Beth suddenly stated with just a hint of humor in her tone.

Daryl just grunted his answer to her as he pulled away the bowl from his lips to chew on the veggies. The best thing about that soup was the broth; the vegetables were clearly hitting the expiration date, or probably passed it. It wasn't unusual to eat expired food these days; it was better that than dirt. As he wiped away the broth from his mouth, Daryl bent down again to set the bowl by the door so she could retrieve it.

He turned his back to her afterwards and plopped back on his bed with his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms propping his head up from behind. A yawn echoed loudly around his small cell, letting her know he was tired and she could go now.

"I don't think I've ever seen someone eat soup quite like that." Daryl shrugged, what did he care? Why was she still here? Was it like visiting the zoo or something, did she get a kick out of feeding the animal?

The more he went down that thought pattern, the angrier he got. His muscles rippled from straining himself from jumping up from his bed to throw himself against the cell door and scare Blondie away. Her weak attempts at conversation were pathetic and aggravating at best. He had more than enough of it.

"Do you want more?" Beth inquired as she turned the key into the lock to retrieve the empty bowl. The air had somehow gotten tense around them and she was pretty sure he was the one with the tension. She had heard from her sister before about men getting so angry you could feel it in the air and see it in not only their expression but their body language.

His body language spoke of barely held back anger and Beth didn't know why her being there angered him. She thought about asking him just that, but the fear of a verbal lashing kept her mouth shut. She glanced back at him as her fingers touched the bowl sliding it back to her, right next to the other items she got from his cell.

"Yer food taste like shit, I ain't want more." Daryl muttered darkly, glaring over at her. Beth bit the inside of her cheek to keep from telling him it was either the shit she made or nothing at all.

"Sorry it isn't five star quality. I'll aspire to make it better next time." The blank stare she got back from him told her that he hadn't been expecting that from her. Beth may look gentle and nice, and really she is, but she also wasn't going to take anyone's shit either. Having two older siblings may have enabled her to be the baby of the family, but it also taught her how to defend herself as well. She could fight her own battles with and without anyone's help. Her siblings had at least taught her that much.

After a minute he snorted in amusement, the air suddenly not so tense anymore. She felt like she could breath just a bit easier now.

"Blondie got some bark goin' on. The real question is if she has any bite to go wit' her bark?" Beth frowned at the question, feeling like he was now mocking her for his own amusement.

"First of all, my name is Beth. Second, why don't cha come over here and find out." Daryl arched a brow at her words, willing the chuckle choking him in his throat to stay put. Little Blondie definitely had some bite with her bark. Usually when blonde's are like that (natural and non) they were usually much older and with more knowledge about themselves. Then again he was comparing this squirt to some of the bimbos he had fucked around with or hung out with at the bars. It wasn't a fair comparison he supposed.

"I like Blondie more, fits ya." Beth cocked her hip to the side.

"You're just lucky I'm the only blonde here." She'd let his name for her slide for now. It was mocking but if it was going to get him talking then she wasn't going to complain about it.

"How old are ya anyway?" He was curious for the fact that most of the young'uns sadly die out fast, hell he was surprised that boy was alive but then with men like Rick and women like Carol, he supposed anyone could survive.

"How old do ya think I am?" Beth countered, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for his answer.

"Too damn young." His answer made her laugh. Hearing the light, almost beautiful noise escape her lips for him to hear brought a shiver down his spine. There was a slight smile on her lips and he wasn't sure why she could be smiling at him, he wasn't trying to be funny or likable.

At least not on purpose…

"Close enough; I'll be eighteen this month…I think…" She looked a bit perplexed as she seemed to be counting the days and months on her fingers for a moment.

"Ya know what month it is?" Curiosity killed the cat, he knows.

"I sort of got it. It's either early April or late May and if it's late May then I'm already eighteen." Beth shrugged with a smile towards him. She wasn't sure why everyone was so apprehensive of Daryl, he was a bit vulgar but overall he wasn't all that bad, at least to her he wasn't. "How old are you?"

"Too damn old." Beth snorted in laughter again, this time Daryl could feel his face heating up in a blush. He was just lucky that it was partially dark in his cell and outside it; nothing would embarrass him more than letting this squirt see him turning red like a sissy or something.

"No, my Daddy is old. You're not." Daryl was pretty sure he was almost old enough to be her father's age, but upon closer inspection of her face (or as much as he could make out) he started to see a resemblance of a certain older man who played doctor on him earlier that day.

"Yer Daddy old 'nough ta be my Pa." Beth rolled her eyes. She was mildly impressed that he figured out who her father was; maybe he wasn't such a lowlife, backwoods redneck like Glenn had said and seemed to think he was. At least he was much smarter than some of the rednecks she had came across in her lifetime.

"Not everyone has their kids young." Beth countered back.

Daryl closed his eyes for a moment to suddenly collect himself. A small part in the back of his mind had always wondered, maybe if his parents hadn't had him and Merle so young then maybe they wouldn't have turned out the way they did. Daryl pushed back the thoughts though, right now wasn't the time…actually it was never the time because he was never gunna make the time.

Fuck 'em.

"Ya know, you're not as scary as everyone has made ya out to be." Beth said breezily, picking up the bowl, cup and bottle.

"Ya don't know shit 'bout me, Blondie. Ya best watch what ya say ta me." She could hear the warning in his voice, a little darkness in his tone but otherwise she wasn't afraid of him. He was unpredictable which in this world was rather scary, but overall he didn't ignite fear into her very soul. Sure she would still be wary of the guy, but he didn't scare her.

"Ya can't play tough guy after all that." Beth waved her hand out indicating their previous conversation. "A scary guy wouldn't have made me laugh, twice."

"Beth, time to go." Glenn came over to the cell door to push it wide open for her. She nodded towards him then turned back to Daryl to smile brightly.

"Bye, Mr. Dixon." Daryl grunted not sure if he should say anything at all. As she disappeared from sight, a young Asian man appeared in her place. He looked at him with slightly hard eyes, eyeing him over but seemed more curious than hateful though there was definitely some anger in him. Daryl was sure this guy feared him.

Good, at least somebody did.

As abrupt as the Asian man's arrive was he disappeared all the same, leaving Daryl to his thoughts as the door outside his cell clanked shut. He could just barely make out their voices as they left him there, then it was all silent once more.

Reaching down Daryl brought his bottle of water to his mouth to take a long gulp. The girl, Beth (Blondie) had left him feeling extremely confused. That whole encounter was just beyond strange and bizarre, normally he wouldn't give anyone the time of day even if she was a pretty girl, it ain't made no difference before so why now? He released a deep sigh as he stared up at the dark ceiling, hoping for sleep to over take him so he wouldn't have to think anymore today.

Maybe it was her eyes…

They were just like her father's, Hershel's non-judgmental eyes that looked to him like he was a human being and not some scary monster like his other daughter, Maggie had. Beth hadn't looked at him like that, he could tell when she first showed up that she was nervous of being alone with him, but once he opened his mouth 'bout the damn food she was quick to bite back. A smirk started to curl at the corners of his lips, but he stopped the process. She was something else, he'll give her that.

The way she said 'bye' though, it was like she was indicating that she would be back with a 'hello' soon. Daryl wasn't sure how he felt about that, if he wanted to see that squirt again or if he'd rather shoot himself with his crossbow again. She did help to take away the utter boredom he had felt before she appeared. Still he feared that he would start to enjoy talking to these people, his jailers. And he shouldn't, he should give them hell and much more for the bullshit and pretention of keeping him locked up.

Merle would have told Blondie that he knew a great place she could put her mouth on. Merle would have been raising hell all through the night and during the day; he would have made these people fearful of his mere presence.

Merle was also an epic asshole too.

Daryl, as much as he hated to admit it, was not…

At least not completely…

* * *

**A/N: S**o they finally meet! I hope it came out like y'all wanted! I know Glenn gave in a little easily but this Beth isn't gonna take crap from anyone over her age, lest of all Daryl Dixon. Now that I know a little bit more of her character, I can use more of that strength we saw in 'alone' and 'still'. I feel like the more I dive into Daryl's character of old, the more I feel in tune with his personality. His snarkiness and cynicism is like the inner workings of my mind at work. I love giving assholes big smiles while tearing them a new limb inside my head, I found my inner Daryl y'all! Hahahaha.

Next chapter will be out as soon as I got it written and my beta has approved of it! Let me know whatcha think!

***Again this chapter has yet to be beta checked. **

Check ya later…

_**ALCzysz17**_


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